Natsume
by Hane no Zaia
Summary: Madara somewhat accidentally acquires a brat. In the end, everyone wins though; Madara gets the Book of Friends, Hinoe gets Reiko's spitting image and Takashi a family of sorts. Reiko would've found it funny, no doubt.


_Natsume's Book of Friends is a personal favourite of mine, but this is my first time writing for the fandom. This is a tentative one-shot. Make of it what you will. ^^_

-.-.-.-

Of all things, Madara could hardly have imagined that he would one day get saddled with a brat, and a human at that.

A lost child is his first thought; a lost child with the sight his second.

The boy is startled but more by the suddenness of his presence than by his appearance; had Madara been in his true majestic form, then surely‒

Another thunderclap resounds. The boy next to him flinches, thin clothes clinging to his bony frame, one or a few sizes off; inherited goods, perhaps? Madara isn't interested, but the rain had ultimately surprised them both, with the result that they had both ended up at the local shrine, seeking shelter from the rain.

Madara considers telling the brat to scamper off, but he holds himself back.

At first glance, the boy seems fragile, but appearances can be deceiving. They are, but Madara only realises that later on.

There are multiple voices in the distance, calling out. "Takashi! Takashi!" they shout, and the boy next to Madara flinches harshly, making him realise that the child is not lost as much as he doesn't want to be found. It's none of Madara's business though; it's a human issue wherein yōkai have no business meddling.

"You should go home, brat," Madara finally growls.

The boy doesn't answer, shivering. His eyes are wide and blank, halfway hidden behind an uncut fringe, thin fingers straightening and then curling into the surprisingly fair hair as another voice calls out, quite close now. "No," he whispers. "I can't. I can't. I can't. I‒"

Madara scoffs at the display, giving the brat another look, assessing him. Truth to be told, it's only around then that he takes a good look at the brat's face. He sees something then, in the momentary flash of lightning and then in the light column of the flashlight as the boy is discovered.

Madara slips away as the adult tears into the boy, snarling at him for causing trouble again and whatnot. The boy, Takashi, doesn't object, stumbling as he's being dragged along. He doesn't cry either, even as others join up, abandoning the search now that the target has been found. "Natsume Takashi," one of them, a woman, hisses, her fingers tightly clasping the boy by the neck. "If you ever cause us this kind of trouble again, I swear I'll‒"

Natsume. Natsume Takashi. Madara has been sealed for a while and time passes differently for him than for humans, but if Reiko had had a child‒ no, no, it didn't matter. More importantly, there was the Book of Friends, wasn't there? Given the chance, Madara would love to get his paws on that, and with that in mind, he follows the delegation, slipping into the house in question later that night.

Takashi is awake and panics, begging him not to cause trouble whilst throwing nervous glances around. Madara asks about the book. Takashi agrees to let him have it, still very nervous as he struggles with opening a box as soundlessly as possible; cringing whenever there's a sound either from his own actions or from the other room. Knowing this is Reiko's spawn (technically her spawn's spawn), it's a pathetic display.

Madara is about to get his book, but before Takashi can hand it over, there is the sound of someone cursing in the other room, swearing under their breath about freaky brats. Madara sees the brat's eyes widen, ready for flight. The moments thereafter follow quickly, and by the time Madara realises what has happened, he's already outside, back in his proper form with a mouthful of brat. Swallowing him would have been easy; eliminating the issue before it escalated even further.

Takashi's silent and wide-eyed when Madara puts him down, clutching the Book of Friends to his chest as if his life depended on it. "Hold onto that for now," Madara growls, crouching. "And grab hold."

The hesitation is minor; a quick look back at the house, now alit. Then he crawls onto Madara's majestic back, clutching the book to his chest with one hand and Madara's fur with the other. The grip only tightens as they fly off into the night; to Madara, it's a minor inconvenience and an irritating reminder of what stupid idea it is. And it is a stupid idea, because Madara really has absolutely no idea of how to raise a human child ‒ or any child for that matter.

Every problem has at least one solution though, and it doesn't take Madara very long to figure out what to do with the brat; he pawns him off to Hinoe, who despite finding humans repulsive loves Natsume Reiko, and the brat resembles her to an absolutely uncanny extent; physically at any rate. Even so, the speed with which she imprints on the brat is fairly impressive.

In the end, everyone wins; Madara gets the Book of Friends, Hinoe gets Reiko's spitting image and Takashi a family of sorts. His similarities to Reiko aside, the clear age discrepancy means that most yōkai are clever enough to realise that they are different entities. The ones that aren't clever enough to realise that by themselves aren't long-lived; Takeshi, or Natsume as he's called throughout, is under the protection of many powerful yōkai, many of whom see it as a personal offence if someone tries anything. Madara is one of them, and they just keep on coming. The latest in the order is a large three-eyed yōkai specialised in purification by fire; a powerful lord, even in Madara's books, so naturally, he is curious as to how his little brat had managed to snare that one.

"He said I'd built him a bridge," Natsume mumbles, working intently on the techniques Hinoe is teaching him. "I just put down a plank though. It was just a puddle; not such a big deal."

Most of the time, it's not such a huge deal, but Reiko's grandson leaves a lasting impression. And, in spite of first impressions, he is anything but fragile. Sure, he is human, but given the incentive, he can subdue even the more powerful yōkai with his fists alone. Heck, even Madara himself has earned himself a punch on occasion, charged with enough spiritual energy to make an impact.

Natsume Takashi is strong, but also young and weak and human, and though they stay in the forest, the human settlement is near and Madara wary of allowing him to venture there unaccompanied. In Madara's opinion, the less he sees of it the better; Reiko had never found her place amongst the humans and her grandson had faced similar rejection for the duration of his life with them.

On the other hand though, Madara is hardly stupid; Natsume has spent months getting used to the climate, but with temperatures dropping, it's only a question of time before Natsume succumbs to some human illness; pneumonia or whatever.

It turns out Madara doesn't need to worry much though.

For one thing, he hadn't commented on the knitted scarf the brat had begun wearing. He had adapted a similar approach to the knitted gloves and cap, perfectly satisfied to ignore them all until Hinoe insists he investigates who's been meddling, because the local yōkai insist they aren't responsible for any of those.

Madara is decidedly tempted to send some small fry to do it for him, but in the end, he goes in person, because a whole lot of them are either bumbling fools or nearly completely ignorant to the way in which human society works these days ‒ which is not to say that Madara himself knows everything of course; he just isn't as blatantly ignorant as the rest of them.

Madara's investigation leads him to the outskirts of the village, to a house that is home to an elderly couple; the Fujiwaras.

The fact that they have not notified the authorities yet speaks in their favour, but Madara doesn't trust them not to do so later. Natsume meanwhile is horrified to learn that Madara knows, obviously thinking he'll get sent away again. Technically, he isn't wrong, although at the same time, he isn't right either.

Somewhere along the line, he and Natsume have become a package deal, and living with the Fujiwaras means being able to laze around for most of the time, getting fed regardless of multiple excursions. To them, he's a cat after all, and little else is to be expected. Also, because he's a cat to them, he is able to eavesdrop on their quiet conversations at night time, learning that the woman is apparently a distant relative of Natsume's father and, in the absence of more willing applicants, technically capable of attaining guardianship.

Of course, Madara is not entirely pleased about the competition. At the same time though, he recognises that there are different rules that need to be taken into consideration. Besides, Natsume seems rather taken with her and she with him, making her instantly preferable to literally anyone else, which is why Madara makes no attempt to sabotage the process and harshly discourages anyone else from doing so. Various yōkai are less pleased after all, having grown quite possessive over time.

"I'm not going anywhere," Natsume promises them, a light smile on his face. "We can still play, just not when I'm going to school or with other people around."

Whether they like it or not, they accept it. Some even linger in order to properly enforce it, making quick work of any insolent newcomers with harmful intent. It takes a while for them to get it after all, and even then, occasional reminders are needed.

Madara hardly needs to overwork himself though, because if push comes to shove, Natsume throws a mean uppercut and an even meaner right hook, provided that his naivety and bleeding heart don't get in the way. And damn that bleeding heart and Madara for going along with it, eventually giving in to Natsume's incessant requests that they start returning names.

The Book of Friends is thinner now; Madara's patience should be running thin yet somehow _isn't_.

In hindsight though, Madara really ought to have been stricter in terms of what counted as acceptable company. He'd accepted the Tanuma boy as a necessary evil or even a good influence if he was feeling charitable, much like that Taki girl. The same really cannot be said about the exorcist.

"That Natori bastard," he grumbles on occasion, but in truth, there are far worse exorcists out there and a reluctant alliance with Natori Shūichi is preferable to the alternative. Natori Shūichi is also preferable because he occasionally brings along quite decent alcohol, and Madara has more than enough reasons to drink these days, most of them Natsume-related.

The Book of Friends is even thinner now, because with the exorcists milling about, Madara has been forced to recognise that it's better that way. Admittedly, he can no longer lord over as many yōkai as before, but that in itself doesn't necessarily make him any less influential. His earlier accomplishments aside, the fact that he's the guardian of Natsume Takashi is enough to have a whole slew of low-level yōkai falling over themselves to do his bidding.

Reiko would have laughed herself silly, had she been able to see him now, trotting down the beaten path alongside her grandson, humming about _manjū_.

" _Sensei,"_ the brat reprimands him, forced to lengthen his stride in order to keep up. "Even if you run, you're only getting one!"

Really, the nerve of him, implying that his majestic self ought to lose weight? "I'll take as many as I want, brat!"

"Really, with what opposable thumbs?!"

Well, primarily with his mouth, but‒ the sheer _nerve_ of him. Madara considers it a challenge.

Reiko didn't live long enough to meet her grandson, but a chuckling Madara runs down the slope in her image with an indignant Natsume at his heels.

" _Senseeeeeei!"_

Truly, Reiko would've laughed.

-.-.-.-


End file.
